


In the Blink of an Eye

by brebit6



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Happy Ending, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, References to Supernatural (TV), Scared Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 16:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13368819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brebit6/pseuds/brebit6
Summary: While searching for an ogre, Stiles gets hurt and Derek has to take care of him while they wait for help.Excerpt:“Derek whispered I love you with every breath he took. It was a mantra. He repeated it over and over again, and in those words was a prayer. A single prayer, repeated one after the other.Let Stiles live.”





	In the Blink of an Eye

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me while I was working on another fic so obviously, I halted all work and started this.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it and please don’t be scared to tell me your thoughts!
> 
> My tumblr is superwoman06, if anyone is interested.
> 
> I take prompts on there, so hit me up.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Maybe it’s a Wendigo.”

Not this again. Stiles really needed to quit watching Supernatural.

“For the last time Stiles, it’s not a Wendigo, it’s an ogre and its already eaten three people while another two are missing.” Derek sighed, exasperated. This was going to be a long day.

“Right, because I’m just supposed to believe that ogres are a thing. Next its gonna be the damn Loch Ness monster, or Bigfoot. Yep, it’s definitively going to be Bigfoot.” Stiles waved his hands around his body and Derek assumed that Stiles was trying to imitate hair all over his body. Whatever.

“Stiles. Shut up.”

“Sure thing big guy, right after you tell me why you asked _me_ of all people to accompany you on this hunt. Just me, the weak fragile human whom you hate, and you, the big bad werewolf who likes to get himself into bad situations. I’m starting to regret agreeing to this trip.”

Derek just kept walking. There was no point in trying to explain why Stiles had been the best option.

Well, Stiles had really been the only option, but Derek wasn’t going to admit why. Not that he knew why himself, but the reason, when he examined it in his mind, usually ranged between Stiles’ ability to talk himself out of anything and Derek’s undeniable feelings for the kid.

Of course, Derek had never actually admitted his feelings to Stiles, because he preferred to keep them bottled up and festering low in his heart. You know, like a normal, healthy-minded person would. _Scoff_.

They finally arrived to the old mine entrance, where the sign above the cave read **DO NOT ENTER.**

_How original._

“Wow, what an _amazing_ sign. That’s gonna do a _great job_ keeping out the riff-raff.” The sarcasm in Stiles’ voice was thick enough to slice.

“Look, Stiles. If you wanna stay behind, by all means do it, because your incessant chattering is really grating on my nerves. I have super hearing and I can barely hear your footfalls over your rambling.” That came out a lot harsher than Derek had intended, but it got the point across if the look on Stiles’ face was anything to go by.

“Fine then Grumpy wolf. I’ll shut up. Just watch me.” Stiles mimicked zipping up his lips and then strode right into the dark cave entrance without an ounce of hesitation. And Derek thought _his_ self-preservation was bad.

Derek grabbed his flashlight out of his pack and then slung the pack over his shoulder, only a few steps behind Stiles and his cute little butt. And, no, he did not need to be thinking about that right now.

Up ahead, the cave tunnel split into two different directions, and before Derek could stop him, Stiles blurted out, “Maybe we should split up,” with his best imitation of Fred from Scooby Doo.

Stiles turned around, the biggest grin on his face, so proud of himself for that reference, and Derek had to squeeze his lips into a tight frown to keep himself from laughing. It would only encourage Stiles to keep going.

Derek rolled his eyes and stepped past Stiles, taking the tunnel to the right. It smelled of decaying flesh and blood, and if Derek was being honest, he was more than terrified that they were both in over their heads with this hunt.

He really doesn’t understand why he only asked Stiles to come along, but then again, Stiles is really the only one he can stand right now. Between Erica and Boyd’s sexcapades around the loft, Isaac with his constant puppy dog eyes and insane need for comfort, and Scott’s inability to talk about anything other than Allison, Derek could really use the sarcasm and good conversation that Stiles provided. Even if it came without an off switch.

“You know, you _could_ walk like a normal person. Like me. You know, the one with human legs that can’t really keep up with your wolfy grump stride. It’s not like getting there faster is going to help the situation if the ogre decides to show up. I mean, he’s gonna be _huge_! We are no match at all, and yet you seem to be in a serious rush to get to his lair.” Stiles said all of this while flailing his arms in his trademark way and Derek couldn’t help but smirk at the look of exasperation on his face.

They finally reached the end of the tunnel, and where they expected to see a big open space full of ogre leftovers, there was nothing but a dead end. Just a wall of rock. That’s it.

“Wow, I think your super sniffer is broken.” Stiles looked over at Derek, who just stared at the solid wall.

This wasn’t right. He’d looked at map after map, he _knew_ there should be a cavern here. Something was wrong.

“Stiles, we need to leave. Right now.” Just as Derek turned around to herd Stiles back out of the tunnel, a loud crack rang through the air. The hair on the back of Derek’s neck stood up and he reached out to pull Stiles to him.

Stiles’ face, though he was obviously trying to hide it, was brimming with fear. Derek could feel him shaking where he stood in his arms, and his heart clenched with terror. They really needed to get out of here. Derek was not about to let Stiles get hurt in this damn cave.

Derek took a cautious step forward, pulling Stiles along with him. Nothing happened, so he took a few more steps, and then a few more. He decided it was safe enough and pushed Stiles forward so they could run the rest of the way out.

Of course, his luck being what it was, they had gotten right to the entrance when the whole ceiling collapsed. Right on top of Stiles.

Derek roared. Louder than he ever had in his life. Louder than he thought was even possible, but that might be because they were currently trapped in by the rockfall and Stiles was somewhere under that rock pile. His heart was pounding in his chest, fear snaking its way up to his throat, closing his airways.

“Stiles? Stiles! Oh God, please answer me. You are not allowed to be dead. Oh God, oh God…” Derek crept forward towards the pile, straining his hearing for even the slightest hint of a noise. A heartbeat, a scratch, a freaking breath, but he heard nothing. He could smell something though.

The thick, cloying scent of blood, specifically Stiles’ blood, almost made him vomit. For the smell to be that strong, there would have to be a lot of blood, and if there was a lot of blood, that meant Stiles was seriously hurt. This was not happening.

Derek frantically started clawing at rocks, muttering Stiles’ name every breath like it would make Stiles suddenly be okay. With every rock he pulled away, the smell got stronger and stronger and then Derek was gripping a hand. A very bloody, very dirty hand.

“Stiles! Can you feel this? Can you speak? Can you hear me? Oh god.” Derek was panicking. There was no other word for it. If Stiles died in this cave today, Derek would never survive. He can’t live without Stiles. He won’t.

A few more rocks were pulled out of their places and then Derek could see Stiles’ face. There was a large gash stretching from his forehead to his cheekbone and Derek was pretty sure his nose was broken.

Several more rocks later and Derek could no longer move them. Stiles’ leg was being crushed underneath one of the larger boulders but if Derek took it off, the blood loss might happen even faster than it already was. Derek was so out of his comfort zone right now, and to top it all off, he realized that he never got to tell Stiles he loved him.

This was not happening. This could _not_ be happening. Stiles couldn’t die. Derek would not allow it.

Shakily, Derek reached a hand up and placed his fingers on Stiles’ pulse point, not trusting his hearing over the roaring of blood in his ears. Seconds passed and right when he was about to give up, he felt a thump. A small, sluggish thump, but that very thump released a wave of relief through his entire being until he could finally breathe again.

“Stiles, can you hear me?” Derek asked. He put his hands on Stiles’ face and started to pull as much pain as he could, which, considering the agony Stiles was in, was not a lot. Dark veins climbed their way up Derek’s arms, his shoulders, his neck. The dizziness he felt was making him sway but he did not stop until, finally, Stiles opened his eyes.

“Derek?”

“Shh, Stiles. Don’t try to talk, okay? I know that’s hard for you but just listen to me for once and just, don’t talk. I’ve got you.” Stiles looked confused for all of two seconds before he tried to shift his harm up towards Derek and then gasped in pain.

“No no no, don’t try to move. The cave collapsed and your clumsy ass got stuck underneath all of the rocks. Please, just…let me figure out how to get us out of here.”

Stiles screwed his eyes shut, a whimper escaping his throat as he tried to settle back down. Derek’s heart was going to beat out of his chest. His hands were shaking violently and it was a wonder he was still able to feel Stiles’ pulse, which was still way too sluggish to be healthy.

Derek, unable to look away from Stiles’ face all screwed up in pain, wasn’t all that surprised when the tears started to flow down his cheeks. He could feel his legs shaking beneath him but he couldn’t find the strength to stand up.

He had to find a way out of here, but…how? The rocks that blocked the entrance were way too large and heavy to move, even for a werewolf. There was no light peeking through any cracks, so Derek couldn’t punch through the walls. Even if he tried to howl, it probably wouldn’t even…wait. His phone!

Derek quickly reached for his pocket, praying to every God he knew of that his phone would have enough signal. Pulling it out of his pocket, relief flooded through him.

The screen was intact and there was really good signal. But, of course, he is a Hale, so the universe had to fuck him over somehow. The phone is only on 15%. _Fuck_.

Checking Stiles’ pulse once more, silently relieved that he had passed out, Derek quickly dialed Scott’s number with unsteady hands.

After five rings, Derek was starting to think Scott would never answer, but then finally, _finally_ , the receiver on the other end clicked and Derek heard Scott’s worry before he even said hello.

“Derek? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Stiles and I were searching for that ogre that was killing people but then the cave collapsed and Stiles was under the rocks and he’s hurt really badly and I don’t know what to do, and…and…” Derek broke. Sobs ripped through Derek’s chest and he could no longer keep himself sitting up. He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying everything he could think of to just get rid of the pure _agony_ his heart was feeling.

Years, _years_ , had passed since he’d cried like this. The last time being when his entire family was burned alive. Stiles had crept up on him, all of a sudden becoming one of the most important people in his life. And now he was going to lose him. All because of some stupid ogre in some stupid cave in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

No.

No. Derek was not going to let that happen. Not now, not ever.

He took a deep breath, pushing down all the pain and fear as much as he could, and picked up the phone again.

“DEREK?! OH MY GOD DUDE ANSWER ME!” Scott was screaming through the phone. Derek wiped his face, took another deep breath, then put the phone to his ear.

“Scott, I’m here. My phone is about to die. Find us, quick.” And just like that, the phone was dead, and Derek was met with silence.

Scott was coming.

Scott would find them.

Now he just needed to keep Stiles alive.

Derek crawled over to where Stiles still lay unconscious and ran his shaky fingers through Stiles’ unruly hair.

“I will not let you die here. I will not let you die, ever. You are not allowed to leave me. Please stay with me Stiles.” His voice wavered. He could feel more tears starting to form, so instead of giving in to the sorrow, he started patching up whatever he could.

Derek didn’t have much to work with, so he took off his shirt and tore it into strips for makeshift bandages. The gash on Stiles’ forehead was still sluggishly leaking blood, so Derek tied a strip of his shirt around Stiles’ head, being as gentle as possible the whole time.

Derek looked down at Stiles’ face, peaceful in his unconsciousness, and he was once again struck by how beautiful Stiles was. A new sense of panic struck him when he realized that he had never told Stiles that. He vowed that if…no, _when_ they made it out of there, he was going to tell Stiles everything.

And that was an even scarier thought. Because Derek loved Stiles. No doubt about it.

But Derek had absolutely no clue if Stiles shared his affections. Still, he refused to let himself back down from admitting it. He would tell Stiles and nothing, especially not some stupid ogre, would stop him.

A noise under him drew his attention back towards Stiles. Stiles was staring up at him, face scrunched in pain, and what also looked like confusion.

“Were you crying?” The concern on Stiles’ face almost broke Derek in two, but he held himself together with a few staples and a piece of tape. He could break down after they got out of here.

“Yeah, I was,” Derek whispered. There was no use hiding it. Stiles could tell when he was lying.

Stiles’ face softened a smidge, still holding the sharp lines of someone trying to hide their pain. Derek laid his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, taking his pain, even if it was only taking away a small portion of it.

“You look like shit.” Derek chuckled at that, finally relaxing enough to breathe, though his heart was still beating too hard.

“Yeah, well, I could say the same to you.” Derek smiled down at Stiles. Stiles laughed and then immediately winced in pain, gasping out as he tried to move away from the ache in his ribs. Derek sobered up so fast, he’s surprised he didn’t get some kind of emotional whiplash.

“Shh, Stiles. It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.” Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand, squeezing gently while also siphoning the pain.

The concern on his face must have been showing because Stiles said, “I’ll be okay, sourwolf. I trust you.”

Derek felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Stiles trusts him? With his life? Derek knew, albeit vaguely, that they shared a basic level of trust, but Derek had always assumed it was because of Scott. To have Stiles state those three words without a hint of a lie in his heartbeat threw Derek for a spin.

Maybe his affections weren’t entirely off track. Maybe Stiles did like him. Derek could only hope.

“Look, Stiles. There’s something I’ve been meaning to…” A loud crack interrupted whatever Derek was about to say, and then all of a sudden there were rocks moving. The same rocks that still surrounded Stiles. The rock that had been crushing Stiles’ leg before was jolted out of its spot by a rumble.

Stiles’ answering scream of agony scared Derek like nothing ever had before. Derek looked over at Stiles’ leg, and too his horror, realized that he had been right not to move that rock.

Blood was now freely pouring out of Stiles’ leg and he was thrashing and screaming, crying on the cave floor. Panic shot through Derek’s heart and then he was taking the rest of the shirt that he had and wrapped it around Stiles’ leg in an effort to stop the bleeding.

It wasn’t working.

“Stiles. Stiles! You have to stop moving. Oh god, you’re only making it worse, please stop. Please.” Derek grabbed Stiles’ face and forced him to look into his eyes.

“Stiles. You have to stop! Baby, please, just stop.”

Stiles quit screaming, but he was still crying in agony, whimpering whenever his sobs jolted another painful body part.

“Der…It h-hurts…Please. P-please make it s-stop.” Stiles’ sobs broke through the surface and Derek’s heart was officially in pieces on the floor. He didn’t know what to do. What was he supposed to do?!

“Stiles…Oh God, I know it hurts baby. I’m trying to take the pain, but it’s not working.” Derek sobbed then. It just broke through and he couldn’t fight it back anymore.

Derek was scared. So very fucking scared. Stiles was all he had left. If he lost him right now…Derek would die.

He cradled Stiles’ head in his lap, trying to take the pain, but there was just too much. He was barely making a scratch on the agony Stiles felt, and he was completely, and utterly, useless.

Derek found himself praying that Stiles would just pass out so he wouldn’t have to feel the pain anymore, but the smaller, selfish part of him, was just glad that Stiles was still awake and alive. Because the pain meant Stiles was still alive.

“Stiles?” A few more sobs broke through. “Stiles, I love you. With all my heart. I can’t lose you. You are the only thing I have left to live for, and if you leave…you just can’t. You can’t leave me like this. Oh god, please don’t leave me like this.” Derek was full on bawling now, his entire body shaking with the force of it.

Stiles’ breaths stuttered, and then he was gasping in pain before, finally, blessedly, passing out. Derek started to rock back and forth, his body unable to hold the emotions in.

Derek whispered _I love you_ with every breath he took. It was a mantra. He repeated it over and over again, and in those words was a prayer. A single prayer, repeated one after the other.

_**Let Stiles live.** _

Minutes passed, leaving in their trail a foreboding sense of dread that grew as time went on. A sinking feeling was growing in his gut and the more time moved, the less Stiles’ chest rose.

Derek had his head to Stiles’ chest when Stiles stopped breathing. Just one breath out, and then silence. Silence like he had never experienced before. A sort of silence that wasn’t actually quiet, but was screaming at the top of its lungs. The kind that brought about the madness of a madman.

“Stiles? Stiles?1 No no no no. STILES!!” Derek roared. Loud and uncoordinated, no meaning other than that of loss. The pure agony and anguish of losing a loved one ripped through him and then he could no longer hear. He could no longer hear, see, taste, smell, or _feel_.

His heart was in a pile of dust, waiting to be swept away into the pain and to never come out again. Stiles, his Stiles, was too still in his arms. A pale sickly color took over the normally beautiful tan skin Derek loved. Crimson red stains marked the cave floor with the memories of when Stiles actually needed all of that blood. Where Stiles’ hair usually stood in an artfully messy way, it now lay limp upon his forehead, a dull brown color drenched in sweat.

Derek threw up. Just leaned over to the side and emptied the contents of his stomach and then some. Breathing was hard. Thinking was hard.

Just… _everything_ was too damn hard!

Derek screamed. He took everything- the pent up anger, the awful empty feeling of loss- and screamed at the world that dared take away the one he loved.

He didn’t even notice the hands that gripped his shoulders. The strong arms that wrapped tightly around his shoulders, trying to keep him in one piece when all he wanted to do was fall apart.

On his knees, he begged. He begged every God, every deity, every fucking supernatural being on the planet. _Bring Stiles back._

There were more people now, too many people. Then there were people putting Stiles onto a cart. The strong arms around him tightened, and then they were forcing him to stand up. He didn’t want to stand. He didn’t want to walk. He wanted to die. That was all he wanted. Why were they making him move?

Somehow, his legs moved forward, step by step, and then he was sitting in a car. What felt like seconds later, those same strong arms were helping him out of the car and into the double doors of the hospital.

Confusion settled in, and with it, the ability to hear.

“Melissa said it’s bad. Did you call the sheriff?” Derek thinks that might be Boyd. Then Erica steps into view.

“Yeah I called him. He’s on his way now, and so are Scott and Isaac.” She looked at Derek then, eyes full of sadness and fear. Derek couldn’t bring himself to comfort her.

Boyd’s arms tightened around his shoulders and Derek sank back into the touch. He felt boneless and not entirely sure he wasn’t about to become a puddle on the floor.

“Derek,” Boyd said, squeezing Derek’s shoulder. “Melissa said they were taking him into surgery. They managed to get his heart beating again in the ambulance, but his injuries were severe and he crashed again when they got to the hospital. They are doing everything they can to save him right now.” Derek is confused.

They are trying to save him? They got his heart started? He could _live_?

Just like that, Derek is fully alert. His senses almost working on overdrive straining to get a scent or a sound of what’s going on in the surgery. But then the Sheriff walked in, and Derek felt a new kind of fear.

Stiles had been in that situation because of him. The Sheriff’s only child, his only family, was currently in the hospital undergoing surgery because of _Derek_. The Sheriff was going to be pissed. He would yell, hit him, throw things, but Derek would take it. Derek would take whatever punishment the Sheriff decided was necessary.

Except, when the Sheriff strode forward, instead of a punch, Derek was pulled into a hug. A tight, fatherly, hug, and Derek was weeping again. Derek wrapped his arms tight around the Sheriff, feeling the Sheriff’s arms do the same around him.

Fat tear drops dripped down his face onto the Sheriff’s uniform, but the man didn’t care. He didn’t try to talk. He didn’t ask what happened. He just held Derek tightly and didn’t even try to let go.

Soon after, Scott and Isaac rushed in, both sporting their trademark wounded puppy dog eyes. Scott was a mess, disheveled, his hair going in every direction, and his eyes were red and puffy like he’d been crying. Isaac looked the same way, but he still had tear tracks on his face.

The Sheriff finally pulled back and looked Derek in the eyes, a firm look on his face, and said, “This was, in absolutely no way at all, your fault and I swear to God if I hear you argue, I will kidnap you and force you into an intervention where every single one of your friends tells you how awesome you are. Understood?”

Derek was shocked, but he just nodded his head. Derek turned to sit back down in his seat, but then the Sheriff spoke again.

“Oh, and before I forget, you have my permission to take Stiles out on a date after this whole mess is over.”

Silence.

Flustered, Derek tried to speak up, but the Sheriff just held his hand up and said, “Son, you weren’t exactly inconspicuous with your feelings. An old man still knows what love looks like.”

Derek fell into his seat, jaw dropped so low he’s surprised it didn’t hit the floor. He didn’t realize he had been that easy to see through before.

 

Several hours later, Isaac and Scott were asleep on each other and Erica was sitting in between Boyd’s lap, none of them willing to leave Derek alone. The Sheriff was sitting on Derek’s other side, wringing his hands together. Even though he put on a tough exterior, Derek could see just how much this was affecting him.

Derek was feeling the same way. His legs wouldn’t stay still and he kept alternating between arms crossed over his chest and elbows on his knees. He felt like Stiles when he forgot his medication.

Derek heard the footsteps before they even crossed the threshold, and he was immediately up and walking towards Melissa, the Sheriff not too far behind.

Derek tried his best not to get his hopes up.

“Melissa, how is my son?”

“As you know he crashed when we got him to the hospital. We managed to get his heart started again and then he was touch and go during surgery but he pulled through. He has a severe concussion, three broken ribs, and his leg was broken in four different places. He will be in a wheelchair for a while, but he will definitely live.” She said this with a smile, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Relief slammed through Derek like a train, and his knees went out beneath him. Boyd was quick to catch him before he hit the ground, but Derek’s legs were noodles.

“He’s being moved to a room right now and he’s still under the influence of heavy pain meds and anesthesia, but you guys can visit for a few minutes.” A tension that Derek hadn’t noticed before, released itself and then Derek felt light and still way to wobbly to walk on his own.

A smile crept up onto his face, the first genuine smile he’s felt in a really long time. In his eagerness, he stumbled a bit, but an ever trustworthy Boyd was there to help him out.

They all walked down the hall towards the patient rooms and Derek knew the minute they were in front of Stiles’ room. Stiles’ almond and vanilla scent wafted out of the room, settling over Derek, and clearing away the sharp scent of disinfectant that all hospitals carried.

It also brought with it a whole new sense of strength, and Derek was able to walk over to Stiles’ bedside with minimal stumbling. Derek grabbed Stiles hand and just held on, never wanting to let go.

Stiles stirred a bit, and then his eyes were struggling to open. Derek caressed the side of Stiles’ face and smiled when Stiles relaxed and turned his head into Derek’s hand.

“Hey sourwolf.” Stiles sounded like he had swallowed gravel but his voice was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever heard. Like, ever.

The Sheriff, once he realized his son was going to be absolutely fine, ushered everyone else out of the room under the guise of letting Stiles rest, but Derek knew better. He was giving them a moment alone.

“I love you too, you know.” Derek froze, his thumb pausing over Stiles’ cheekbone, and stared at Stiles, listening for a lie in his heartbeat. There was none.

“I know,” Derek said with a smile. “We’ll talk about this more when you wake up.”

“G’night sourwolf.”

“Goodnight Stiles.” Derek sat in the chair by the bed, relaxing back, and for the first time since the cave, Derek slept, for he knew that, no matter what, everything would be fine in the morning. Stiles was alive and breathing, and Stiles love him.

Derek’s life changed in the blink of an eye, but for once in his life, it changed for the better.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, awesome!
> 
> If not, let me know why and maybe I can use your advice for future fics!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
